


Gift of a Fruitcake

by innerslytherin



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-15
Updated: 2010-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-06 08:03:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innerslytherin/pseuds/innerslytherin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas prompts Remus to attempt to make peace with Severus. (Set during HBP)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gift of a Fruitcake

"Yes, but what is it?"

"It's a fruitcake, Severus!"  Lupin beamed at him, probably proud of the fact that he'd managed to confound him.

Severus looked down at the package in his hand, wrapped in brightly coloured cellophane and tied with an overlarge green bow.  "Why?"

Lupin blinked.  "Because it's cake with fruit in it."

Severus glared at him.  "I know what fruitcake _is_, Lupin!  I understand why it's called that!  What I want to know is _why are you giving me a fruitcake_?"

"Oh.  Well, the season of goodwill and all."

"I believe it's also known as the season of charity," Severus said dryly.

Lupin laughed, then looked startled.  "Severus, would you like to have dinner with me?  I don't really feel like spending Christmas alone."

Severus gave him a look.  "I don't have a gift for you, Lupin."

He shook his head.  "I don't care."

"Oughtn't you to be dining with Miss Tonks' family?"

Lupin gave him a pained look.  "You know I can't do anything about the way she feels."

Severus raised his eyebrows.  "Why should I care one way or another?" he asked, completely unable to keep the smugness out of his voice.  He turned and walked into his quarters, leaving the door open.  Lupin could interpret that however he chose.  Behind him, he heard the door close, and footsteps following him further into the sitting room.

Apparently Lupin was serious about wanting to spend Christmas evening with him, though Severus couldn't imagine why on Earth he would want to.  Severus had been quite horrid to him two years ago when he taught here, not to mention outing him as a werewolf, yet Lupin persisted in extending kindness, if not outright friendship, to him.  Severus had never in his life met someone as confusing as Remus Lupin.  And that included the Dark Lord and Albus Dumbledore.  Really, they were quite simple compared to the werewolf.  The Dark Lord wanted to rule the world.  Dumbledore wanted to save the world with love—even if it meant his own death.  The werewolf—what _did_ the werewolf want?

Severus poured a glass of sherry, then looked at Lupin.  "Drink of choice?"

"Sherry is fine," Lupin agreed, smiling.  Always smiling.  He smiled far more often than was healthy.  Perhaps he was mad.

When Severus held out the glass, Lupin's fingers brushed his casually, and Severus' warning flag went up.  Once could be excused.  But first when he gave Severus the fruitcake, and now?  He was trying to embarrass Severus.  He was trying to humiliate him.  He would go back to the others—to Nymphadora Tonks—and tell them how Severus Snape responded to his overtures.  The entire Order would know Severus preferred men, and another piece of his carefully guarded privacy would be gone.

"Why?" Severus said, his voice harsh.

Lupin looked surprised at the sudden change in tone.  "What?"

"Why would you do this?  Why do you want to spend this evening with me?"

Lupin's gaze became warm and understanding, and Severus hated him—wanted to hate him, because he felt something in him softening in response to that gaze.  "Severus, you and I have never really had a chance to be friends.  To be honest, I've always regretted that.  I was reminded of that last night, by a song I heard on the wireless, oddly enough.  And I resolved to do something to change that."

It was an open admission, and Severus could tell, because Lupin was holding his gaze willingly, because Severus was shamelessly using his Legilimancy, that Lupin meant it.  He could feel Lupin's regret, feel his yearning for connection.  It was frightening.

Severus stood up.  "Should I do something with this?  Would you like some?"  He indicated the fruitcake with a wave of his hand.

Remus—no, Lupin, dammit—looked surprised.  "That's fine," he said.  "Severus, I'm not trying to hurt you.  I think there's been enough hurt between us, on both sides, to last a lifetime.  Don't you?"

Severus had pulled out his wand and was directing a slicing charm to cut thin pieces of the fruitcake.  He didn't look up.  "I concur," he said, his voice quiet.

He could tell, without looking, that Remus' face had lit up with a smile.  "I'm so glad, Severus."

And Severus couldn't admit it, couldn't force his tongue to say the words, but he was, too.

 

Long after the fruitcake and sherry were finished, they continued talking, their discussion ranging from history and foreign magic to recent advances in potions and the field of dark arts defence.  By tacit agreement they avoided talking about the war, the Order, the Dark Lord.  Oddly, Severus managed to forget for much of the afternoon that he was going to have to kill Albus Dumbledore.  Whenever he found himself getting huffy and defensive, Remus calmed him with a smile or a laugh, and a comment like, "Severus, I'm merely trying to understand."  Severus drank far more than he was wont to, and found himself feeling warm and relaxed.

"Would you like me to order something from the house elves for dinner?" he asked when he noticed that the clock was nearly at half-seven.

"That would be marvelous," Remus replied, smiling.  Severus found himself quirking one corner of his mouth in response, and had to turn away quickly so he didn't actually smile back at Remus Lupin.

The house elves outdid themselves.  Severus had certainly never had so nice a meal when he ordered for himself alone.  He decided they must actually like Remus.  He wondered if Remus had made a habit of visiting the kitchens while he was a professor—he knew he'd done so as a student.

"This is excellent," Remus said after they'd finished their meal in a comfortable silence.  He took a sip of his drink and smiled very warmly indeed at Severus.  "Severus, I must tell you, I have rarely enjoyed myself so much as I did today."

Severus didn't know how to respond to that.  After a moment, he picked up his glass.  "Your company has not been as trying as I had expected."

Remus laughed, and Severus was glad the werewolf had understood that he was agreeing.

A wave of the wand cleared up the table, and then Remus had refilled both of their glasses.  To Severus' surprise—and a wave of panic he was completely unable to suppress—Remus took his hand and led him back to the sofa.  When Severus sat, Remus sat down just a little too close.  Severus found himself unable to breathe properly.

"I really have had a wonderful time," Remus said, his voice low.  "Severus, I must be impertinent and say some very personal things.  I haven't much time, you know.  I have to return to the werewolves before sunset tomorrow.  I could be killed at any moment—so could you."

Severus had experience at fending off unwanted advances—not many, admittedly, but there were those among the Death Eaters who were undiscerning about their choice of bed partners—but he had no idea what to do with an advance that suddenly he wanted very much.  He swallowed and opened his mouth to say—well, _something_.

And Remus leaned forward and kissed him.

It was an uncertain kiss, hesitant and soft and questioning.  And Severus realized there was only one response he could make if he wanted to respect himself later.  He slid his fingers into soft, graying hair that he'd wanted for months to touch, and he kissed Remus back.

When their lips parted, Remus leaned back enough to look up at him anxiously.  "I've wanted to do that for some time," he admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper.  "But I always thought you'd hex me.  But things are changing so quickly, we've lost so many…Severus, I couldn't live with myself if one of us were to…and I hadn't told you."

"How long have you known?" Severus asked.  It wasn't what he'd meant to say, but he supposed instinctive defenses didn't lower all in a day.

"That you fancy men?  I wasn't sure until you kissed me back."  Remus' expression was rueful.  "I decided the very worst you could do was hex me and then tell everyone I'd kissed you.  I found that to be an acceptable risk."

"Things aren't—"  Severus began.  Remus placed a finger over his mouth.

"I'm not asking you for forever," he said softly.  "I'm not asking for all your deep secrets.  I'll take whatever you offer me, but I am a very private person, and I know you are, too.  I understand."  He pulled his finger away.

Severus nodded slowly.  "There is much I cannot tell you, Remus," he said.  He liked the way the werewolf's eyes lit up at the use of his given name.  "But I would like…"

"Yes," Remus said softly, when Severus did not continue.  "So would I."

He smiled happily, and this time it was Severus who leaned forward to initiate the kiss.


End file.
